A New Page
by magentacr
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. John tries to deal with Sherlock's death through a new means – a diary. But will it be enough, or will it take something stronger to keep him going? Rated T to be safe as later episodes touch on the idea of suicide.
1. Dear Diary

**A/N Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Diary of John Hamish Watson. At the suggestion of my psychiatrist. She wanted me to continue the blog, but I couldn't. Not after what happened. It just bought back too many memories. And the blog was about him really so it makes sense to stop it now, for the readers. And of course they don't help either, with their comments. I'm not sure what was worse, those accusing me of being an accomplice to the fraud, or those offering their sympathies that I was taken in by him too. Both of which are not true, of course. Sherlock Holmes was many things, but he was no fraud.

So I'm writing a diary now.

So today. Today was the funeral. It was a small funeral, not many people came. Mycroft with an older woman, who I assumed was their mother. Lestrade. Mrs Hudson. And me. That was it. I didn't expect many, but four? What about some of his more grateful clients maybe, or what about Molly? I can't believe Molly would believe what the papers are saying, she's seen him work, and she worshipped him. Maybe she had her own reasons, I don't know. I guess it's not my place to judge.

Speaking of judging. I couldn't look Mycroft in the face, not knowing the part he had to play, selling his brother out to Moriarty to get him to talk. Couldn't shake his hand. It was all I could do not to punch him really. I briefly spoke to their Mother, offered my condolences. They left quite quickly after the service. I guess that's the Holmes for you, no time wasted on _sentiment_.

Lestrade couldn't stay long either. Hung about long enough to tell me he'd sorted out my charges for punching his boss and to give me some interesting information. Apparently Moriarty's body was found on the roof of Barts, near where Sherlock jumped. Suicide he said, put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Time of death a few minutes before Sherlock jumped. Not a suicide pact then, like the cabbie. I don't understand, if he was there he must have been responsible for what Sherlock did somehow, but why would Sherlock do what Moriarty wanted if Moriarty was already dead? Lestrade said he'd leave it with me, his couldn't get anyone at Scotland Yard to investigate further. He hesitated when I asked him why, said I didn't want to know, but I said I could take it. Apparently they all believe Sherlock killed Richard Brook for exposing him, making it look like a suicide, then killed himself out of shame. Case closed. Nothing Lestrade could do. I think he's in some kind of trouble for having supported Sherlock, but he didn't say much and I didn't want to pry. I'm grateful for his support, for him believing.

So then it was just me and Mrs. Hudson standing by his grave. She gave me a few minutes privacy with the grave. I said a few things, things I needed to say, then went and caught up with her. Got a taxi back with her to make sure she got home safe. She wanted me to come in, even for a few minutes, but I couldn't. I felt bad for not being there for her, but just seeing the door was bad enough.

It's nice of Harry to let me stay here. Don't know how long I'll stay, don't know what I'll do now really.


	2. February 12th 2012

**AN: Hi, thanks for the views and the follows. I plan on updating once a day, so hopefully you won't get bored.**

February 12th 2012

I know, it's been nearly a week since my last entry, but I've not really done much worth writing about. Just been going over it all in my head, over and over again, trying to make sense of what happened on that rooftop. It drives me crazy not knowing. So it was a bit of a relief today when Molly called asking me to lunch. I hadn't seen her since before, wasn't sure how it would go, but I didn't hesitate in going. Something in the way she said she wanted to talk to me. I could tell something was up, and it made my heart race. Made me feel alive again. Just like when Sherlock would say 'could be dangerous', knowing I wouldn't be able to resist.

We arranged to meet on her lunch break, a little café round the corner from Bart's, but not within view of Bart's. Thoughtful of her. I went early, to a café over the road waiting until I saw her to go over. Well it could have been Mycroft, I've been ignoring all the cars he tried sending to get me, I wouldn't put it past him to enlist someone like Molly to trick me into meeting with him. But it wasn't him, just Molly.

We made small talk for a bit. It was quite nice. She was obviously concerned about me, asking if I was sleeping okay, getting enough to eat etc. I felt a bit bad for lying to her, but I didn't want her to worry.

The subject of Sherlock was broached awkwardly, I couldn't help it, I just had to check, I needed to know she still believed in him. She told me she rarely went to funerals, she got to say her own goodbyes in the morgue. And she was very quick to assert that she didn't believe what the papers said, that she'd known him to long, seen him do too much to doubt. And, as she reminded me, she knew Moriarty, knew what an accomplished actor he was, but not the one he was pretending to be. Then she gave me some rather shocking news. Moriarty had disappeared from the morgue. Disappeared or escaped I wonder. Molly's uncertain, she admitted the body hadn't really been examined yet, but didn't see how it could have been faked. And that made me wonder, but Molly saw it in my eyes. She shook her head and gave my arm a comforting squeeze. I think somehow the confirmation from Molly made it more final than the funeral. I held it together though.

Strangely the news about Moriarty's body made it easier. It's a new lead in the case, a case that I owe it to Sherlock to solve. And, if Moriarty is alive, then maybe, if I can find him, I can have my revenge. I can make him suffer for whatever he did. That thought is a beacon of light to me, a purpose. After the war, I had felt so lost, so lacking purpose and direction on my return. And then Sherlock came along and gave me a new purpose. When Sherlock died I thought it had died with him, but now I see that this is where my whole life has been leading me. Being a soldier taught me fight, being friends with Sherlock has given me a cause worth fighting for. Worth dying for if I have to.


	3. March 21st 2012

**A/N: I need chapter titles really, but can't really think of anything. Maybe dates, I don't know, what do you think?**

March 21st 2012

It's been a month, and I'm no closer to finding Moriarty or finding out the truth of what happened that day than I was the day I had lunch with Molly. To be honest I think I was half counting on him to find me. I mean, he was so determined to destroy Sherlock, I figured as a close friend of his I would be next on Moriarty's list. But no, apparently it isn't just me who thinks I'm nobody without Sherlock.

I did try to track him down myself, but I had no idea how to go about it, or even where to start. I've been constantly scanning the news and police reports, looking out for anything suspicious, anything that sounds like him. I must have picked up a little from Sherlock, I do occasionally spot something the police missed, and phone Lestrade straight away to tell him about it. He's always grateful for my help, even if it rarely comes to much. Either it's a detail of minor importance or we just run into a dead-end without Sherlock's help.

At first searching through police reports made me feel a bit better, like I could carry on without him. Now though it's just a reminder of how useless I am without him. It's soul draining, searching and getting nowhere. And I feel like I'm letting him down.

Some days I get so depressed about it. What makes it worse is that my moroseness has started getting to my sister. She's drinking again. And I just don't have it in me to stop her. Hell, sometimes I just want to join her, wash all my misery away with a bottle. I gave in last night, went down the pub, got smashed. Made a lot of noise getting in, woke Harry up. I think she helped get me to bed, but I'm not sure, it's a bit of a blur. All I remember is her disappointed, pitying face. And she'll have smelt it on me, it will have made her want some too. I haven't dared leave my room yet, knowing what I'll find out there, the mess I caused. All those years I held her drinking against her, now I've become the very thing I hated, and I'm taking her back down with me.

She'd better much better off if I weren't here. But where else will I go? Back to 221b? I just can't. I know Mrs Hudson would welcome me back. She said I wouldn't even have to worry about the other half of the rent, she could afford to let it slide, she would just be happy to have one of her boys back. 'Her boys'. She thinks of us as sons. Losing Sherlock must have been like losing a son to her, and I just abandoned her too. I really am a selfish man. Maybe I should just visit her there, and see how it feels.

March 21st 2012. Later.

It hurt. That's how it felt. So empty and yet so full at the same time. So full of memories, his things still half boxed all around the room. I don't understand how Mrs Hudson can stand it. She did look thinner than before, older. I had to get out of there, so I suggested we go elsewhere to catch up. She said she understood, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I got her hopes up then dropped them again. I should probably just leave the old woman alone from now on, give her a chance to move on. I don't want to be on my own though, so looks like I'm staying here for now.


	4. May 3rd 2012

**AN: Sorry the story is moving a little slowly at the moment, is a bit depressing. But hang in there, I promise it'll get better soon. ;)**

May 3rd 2012

I lost my job at the clinic. Well, they didn't exactly fire me, just told me to 'take some time off and get yourself sorted out'. Which is probably not going to happen, so I'm probably not going to be getting my job back. I'm just not getting over it, things aren't getting better, they're just getting worse.

I'm drinking every few days now, trying to drown it out. That relentless circling in my thoughts, wanting to know why he did it, wanting to find Moriarty, but getting nowhere with my searching. I think I finally understand what Sherlock meant when he said his mind was like a rocket, tearing itself apart on the launch pad. It drives me crazy, so I drink to forget it all. Then the next day I see the mess I've made. Walk past my equally hung over sister to go to work. No wonder they wanted to get rid of me, hardly professional going to work like that. Not at all good for a doctor. So then I feel like a tit for my behaviour, and renew my search for Moriarty, hoping when I find him I'll find my peace. Then I find nothing and go back to the drink. The wheel turns.

What do I do now? Now I don't even have my job as a distraction. Now the one worthwhile thing I had left is gone? It's not even worth me looking for another job, no-one would hire me.

Mycroft has stopped trying to contact me. He's probably seen what a mess I've become and decided he doesn't need to be associating himself with that kind of behaviour. And I was finally beginning to consider asking his help too. He's found Moriarty before. But now he's left me. Probably for the best, I couldn't have trusted him.

Haven't contacted Lestrade recently either. Nothing to report to him. Saw Molly a few times after Sherlock's death, but it's been a while now. Haven't even seen Stamford, he must have got sick of my obsessing. They're all leaving me. Probably for the best, I'm not good company at the moment. Just look what I'm doing to Harry.


	5. September 26th 2012

September 26th 2013

It's been 9 months since Sherlock's suicide. And I've decided the world would be better off without me too. This is my note, because that's what people do, isn't it Sherlock?

This downward spiral I've been on, that's been pulling me and those around me apart. It could only end one of two ways. I couldn't find Moriarty, so that leaves only one option for me. There's nothing left for me in this life, and I'm nothing of any worth left in me.

I'm just a sponger, living off my army pension. I was doing something of value back then, in the war. But one bullet in my shoulder and I left it behind. Others died out there, but me, I just came home. I've thought a lot about the death and destruction I saw out there. Wondering if it had been better if I had died there.

But if I had died there then I would never have met Sherlock. I don't know if I ever made much of a difference on the cases, but I like to think I made a difference to his life. I will never regret that time with him, only that it ended.

I know there will be those who will mourn for me too, like they mourned for Sherlock. And to them I am sorry. I hope Harry can recover from the mess I've dragged her into. I know it might make her worse at first, but sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. But there is no getting better for me. I'm an empty husk of the man I once was, already dead inside.

That's why I've come back here, to Barts. I thought a lot about how I would do it, but I knew it had to be this. Because this is where I already died 6 months ago. I'm just finishing the process.

So goodbye, I guess.

John placed the diary down, somewhere it would be seen, but was safe from the elements. He stood, straight and tall, as the soldier in him was trained to. Taking a deep breath he marched over to the edge, stepping up in almost the exact place Sherlock had stood. He looked down, then over to where his taxi had pulled up six months ago. He closed his eyes, replaying it in his head.

_Turn around and walk back the way you came, now. Stop there. Okay look up, I'm on the rooftop._

_I can't come down so I guess we'll have to do it this way._

_I'm a fake… Tell anyone that will listen that I invented Moriarty for my own purposes._

_The first time we met, you knew all about my sister._

_Nobody could be that clever._

_Keep your eyes fixed on me._

_This phone call. It's my note._

_Goodbye John._

John took a deep breath, preparing to fall, until he felt a hand grabbing the back of his jacket. He had guessed something like this would happen, that someone would try to stop him. But what he could not anticipate was the familiar, deep, and eloquent voice that came with it. A voice that could only possibly and impossibly belong to one person.

"Steady now John. Just step back off the ledge, please. Easy does it."


	6. Hello again

"Steady now John. Just step back off the ledge, please. Easy does it."

John's eyes snapped open at the sound of Sherlock's voice. For a second he was frozen in disbelief, and all he could hear was his own breathing, getting heavier to keep up with his now pounding heart.

"I said, step back John" The voice repeated, now with a slight edge to it, afraid he would not comply.

Slowly and unsteadily John forced his body to move. He couldn't turn to face him yet, afraid the mirage would fade, but he stepped back and down. Another hand touched his shoulder to steady him, then both fell away when he was safely off the ledge.

John took a steading breath, waiting for the voice to speak again, but there was only a charged silence. Again it took great effort but John forced himself to move, turning stiffly to face his rescuer. At first he feared he had been mistaken, as Sherlock looked very different with his hair cropped to only slightly longer than Johns, but when their eyes locked he knew without a doubt his friend was back.

The two men stared at each other. Sherlock's eyes flicked briefly over John, and John knew what he would be deducing. The deeper lines on his face would tell of his worrying, the bags under his eyes would tell of his sleepless nights and nightmares and the redness would betray his drinking. He had shaved this morning and put on clean clothes, but Sherlock would know that it was only for the occasion, as his weight loss would give away that he'd not been taking care of himself.

Sherlock also knew what John was about to do a split second before he did it. He effortlessly caught John's fist before it hit his face.

"I'm not saying I don't deserve it, but I have just spent 6 months recovering from a rather nasty fall. Not sure if my body is ready to take any more abuse" he explained, the corner of his mouth pulling up for a second in an apologetic smile.

"_Recovered from a nasty fall?_ You were **dead**. I saw you, I took your pulse, and you were dead!" John half shouted.

"Come now, you're a doctor. You must know how the pulse in the wrist can be stopped with the right pressure in the right place." Sherlock calmly replied. John jerked his fist free from Sherlock's grip, going for the face again. This time Sherlock didn't stop him.

John paced in a small circle, shaking out his fist as Sherlock straightened, testing his jaw and holding his injured cheek. The bruise bloomed under his hand. John stopped and stared at him, too angry to be sorry.

"Explain. Now. Why did you do it? Moriarty was dead, the police told me he killed himself before you jumped. What could he possibly have said to you to make you go through with it? And why didn't you tell me you were still alive? How could you even have survived anyway?" He demanded.

"A little knowledge of collision statistics, a little padding and a lot of luck is how I survived, John. I knew it was what Moriarty wanted and did what I could to prepare myself but there wasn't much else I could do, not if I was going to convince the assassins I really had killed myself"

"Assassins?" John asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yes. Three of them, one for you, one for Mrs Hudson and one for Lestrade. Instructed to kill you all if I didn't kill myself. Moriarty was the only one who could call them off, he killed himself so I would have no choice but to jump to save your lives. Well, he pretended to kill himself" Sherlock added, his eyebrow raised.

John was shocked. This was Sherlock, Sherlock who thought caring was a disadvantage, that it wouldn't help save anyone. Yet he cared enough for John, Mrs Hudson and even Lestrade to risk his life to save them. He looked up at Sherlock's still raised eyebrow and asked the question he knew Sherlock was waiting for "You knew then, that Moriarty wasn't really dead?"

"Saw him leaving the morgue. Couldn't do anything about it, I was supposed to be dead. I should have checked up on the rooftop, it was stupid of me not to."

John nodded, though he was still having trouble digesting it all. "So… is that where you've been all this time? The morgue?"

"Goodness, No!" Sherlock laughed "After Molly patched me up I moved in with her, her spare bedroom."

"Wh…With _Molly_? You mean she knew all along?" John asked, shocked that she would have lied to him.

"Of course. I needed her help, seeing as she works at the morgue. And I knew Moriarty would overlook her. Don't be too mad at her for not telling you, I asked her not to, it was too dangerous. Besides, who do you think told me you were up here? I shouldn't even be here, it's far too risky, me approaching you, but she insisted I was probably the only one who could stop you. Was she wrong?"

John looked away at the edge where he'd been about to jump, then back to Sherlock.

"No." He said firmly "But I don't understand, why is it still not safe, why couldn't you have told us somehow? Surely after the assassins saw you jump they would have left?"

"The assassins may have left, they may not but Moriarty still has people watching you. That's why I've had to stay away. I did…" Sherlock paused for a second, looking away. John knew under his cool exterior Sherlock was getting emotional. "I did try to let you know I wasn't really dead. My phone call. Telling you I was a fake wasn't part of Moriarty's plan, it was mine. I knew you wouldn't believe it. I just hoped if I can't plant that _idea_, then your mind might make the connection between my death and **fake**. I know at least part of you got it, what you said at my gravestone, asking me to 'Stop it'" Again he smiled apologetically, "but it never made it through to your conscious mind did it?"

"No" John agreed, surprised to hear it come out as almost a sob. It was all beginning to catch up with him now, the fact he had nearly killed himself, that Sherlock had stopped him, that Sherlock was **_alive._** And most shockingly the fact that Sherlock had cared, so much, about him. Sherlock had jumped off a building to save _his_ life. The jumble of emotions crashed over him and John felt the lump rising in his throat, tears filling his eyes. He brushed them away with shaking hands and fought to regain control.

"It's okay" Sherlock said in a soft voice, that John had only heard him use a couple of times before, in extremely delicate situations. "You've had a rough time of it, I know. I'm sorry, if I could have done things another way I would."

John nodded but couldn't seem to get any words out past the lump in his throat. He felt his breaths becoming fast and shallow and tried desperately tried to calm himself but the more he tried the harder it became. Then his medical training kicked in and he realised what was wrong. "I think I'm going into shock" He gasped

"I think you are." Sherlock agreed, noting the sheen of sweat developing. He helped John lower himself to the ground, punching a speed dial button on his phone. "Molly? Yeah, I've got John, we're on roof still. I'm afraid it's all been a bit much for him, he's in shock. The thirst should kick in in a minute, we'll need water, bring a couple of bottles. Thanks"

Shivering, John closed his eyes, fighting the feeling of nausea. He felt a heavy coat settle around his shoulders and immediately felt a lot better, knowing now Sherlock was back everything would be alright.


	7. John's new girlfriend

**AN: just had my husband read this and point out me switching between 6 months in the last chapter. Oops. So sorry about that, I'll try and do a better job of checking from now on. **

"So who else knows you're alive?" John broke the silence. The worst of the shock had passed, calmed by the presence of the man now sitting beside him. Sherlock looked up from the nothing he was staring into as he thought.

"No-one. Just you and Molly." He answered, slightly distracted as his eyes reassessed Johns condition.

"Not even Mycroft?"

Sherlock snorted "Brother dearest? I avoided asking his help even before he sold me out to Moriarty, yet alone after. He deserves to mourn me."

"Fair enough" John agreed. He had asked more out of amazement that Sherlock had managed to stay out of Mycroft's sight than any feelings of sympathy toward the man.

They both looked around as the door to the roof opened, relieved to see it was only Molly, struggling to open the door handle and keep a hold of the two bottles of water in her hand. John looked eagerly at the bottles, feeling ridiculously thirsty after his shock.

"Sorry it took so long, there was a queue at the vending machines. Here you go John" She babbled, hurrying over and handing the bottles to John. He gratefully took them, chugging the first down quickly then opening the next.

"Wow, you really are thirsty. Oh and here, I bought you this too, you'll need vitamin b, this is the best I could do." Molly said, pulling a snack bar from her pocket and handing it to John. "And also, I just wanted to say, I am so sorry for lying to you about Sherlock. I-"

"Don't be" Sherlock cut her off

"It's okay, I understand" John said over him.

"Okay" Molly nodded. She looked up at the coat around John's shoulders with a concerned look before turning to Sherlock "You wore the coat? I thought it was too dangerous, what if someone recognised you?"

"Nobody saw me, I took back alleys all the way here, came in the back door and put all the hospital cameras I had to walk past on a loop until I was clear. I bought the coat for John's benefit, I didn't want him to see me out of the corner of his eye, think I was someone else and jump before I could reach him. " Sherlock explained.

"Yeah thanks it helped, what with the new haircut and all." John said absentmindedly, looking from Sherlock to Molly. The Sherlock he knew before would have simply said 'don't try to think, Molly' or something equally rude. Obviously living with her had done him some good John was pleased to see. "So what now then? Are you coming back for good now?" He had to ask.

"No, still too early for that yet. It's still not safe for you. Shouldn't be too much longer though." Sherlock assured.

"You have a plan, right?" John asked

"Of course. I haven't exactly been idle these 9 months, even if I haven't been able to get out much." Sherlock said, getting up and stretching his legs "I've been refining my computer hacking skills, gathering all the info I can about Moriarty's network. I'm hoping to get a fix on Moriarty himself, but so far it's proved difficult, he's moving around too much. But give me another couple of months and I should have enough information to take down 90% of Moriarty's network and have substantial proof of his existence. Of course I'll have to hand the information over to the police to apprehend the criminals, which will probably take us down to more like 80% but that's still more than enough to keep Moriarty busy and open the way for my return."

"Wow, yeah, that should do it" John agreed with a laugh, before sobering slightly "but what about me? I just go back to… what I was doing before, when I thought you were dead?"

"I'm afraid so, you need to act like you never saw me today, any change in your behaviour and the people watching you will get suspicious."

"I don't know if I can. I mean… jeez I was a mess. A proper mess. The drinking…. And it wasn't just me I was messing up, it was Harry too. I can't keep doing that to her." John confessed.

"Hmm" Sherlock mused "There might be another way. If something else was to inspire your reformation perhaps. A new religion maybe?"

John just snorted in response.

"Some kind of therapy?"

"Yeah tried that, look where it got me"

"Alright then, a new girlfriend then. You never seemed to be lacking in those"

"Yeah that was before, I haven't had a new girlfriend since you scared the last one off." John pointed out "And besides, who would want to date me if I'm still pretending acting like a depressed, jobless drunk?"

"Maybe if that person was only pretending to date you" Sherlock said with a sly smile

"Who? Oh!" John said, following Sherlock's gaze to Molly.

"Me?!" Molly squeaked, seeing both eyes on her. She blushed furiously and stuttered, uncertain of how to respond to such a proposal.

"It's a perfect cover" Sherlock assured "If anyone asks it was Molly who stopped you killing yourself. She talked you down and you started to feel a spark, something that wasn't there before and decided to see where it went. But obviously you knew you'd have to clean up your act for a serious relationship and she agreed to help you.-"

"But I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Molly spluttered.

"Oh come now Molly, it's no big deal, you're only pretending to date him. What price is that to potentially save his life?" Sherlock cajoled.

Molly knew she was being manipulated by the light-hearted tone of voice, but despite that what he said was true. "Okay. I suppose that would be okay." She agreed.

"Excellent"


	8. Hide and Seek

Several weeks passed and things were all going to plan. John had got himself cleaned up, even getting his job at the clinic back, and him and Molly were continuing their pretense of dating, giving John plenty of opportunities to visit Sherlock. There was no real spark between him and Molly however, and Sherlock personally thought they acted much more like brother and sister than a couple. It was the best he could do to convince them they should at least kiss goodbye at night, or they'd be fooling nobody.

Sherlock pushed Molly's cat Toby off of his keyboard for the second time that day. Molly and John were at work, leaving him to do his research with only the cat for company. So as soon as Sherlock heard a sound from the front of the flat, he knew something was wrong. The cat often made noises around the flat with his comings and goings, but Toby was still seeking attention by curling around Sherlock's ankles. Molly would have text if she was coming home early, so that left only one option.

An intruder.

Either daylight robbery or someone looking for him. If it was daylight robbery they would be in and out in a few minutes with the most expensive thing they could find. If not, Sherlock didn't have a few minutes to waste finding out. Sherlock moved quickly and quietly, closing his laptop lid and stashing it under the mattress. He grabbed his clothes out of the wardrobe and hid those under the mattress also, leaving no visible evidence of his stay. He picked up the cat and put him on the bed, stroking him so he would curl up and get comfortable, as if he'd been there for hours. Now all Sherlock needed to hide was himself.

Under the bed and in the wardrobe were too obvious, the first place they would look. There was a ledge outside the window big enough for him to edge along, but the outside of the flat was likely being watched. That left only one place. Sherlock went and stood behind the door, grateful that it opened inwards and would conceal him. He listened carefully, hearing the intruder opening the door to Molly's bedroom and going inside. He was in there about a minute before coming back into the hallway. Enough time to search a small room for life, not for valuables.

The steps came closer, straight into the room Sherlock was in. Clearly he was an amateur, failing to check round corners as he came in. Sherlock got a good look at the back of his head as he approached the wardrobe. Crop cut, ear piercing, mid-twenties, right handed, trypanophobic. He didn't have time for a more in depth analysis of the man before him, it was now or never. Sherlock silently pulled away from the wall and slipped round the door. He opened the door to Molly's bedroom the same moment the man opened the wardrobe to cover the sound and slipped in. He could hide here until the man was gone since it had already been searched. Making himself comfortable on Molly's bed, Sherlock pulled a fresh nicotine patch out of his pocket, stuck it on his arm, steepled his fingers against his chin and settled down for a good long think about what was going on.

Sherlock was snapped out of his thoughts hours later by Toby jumping on his lap and meowing loudly. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts Sherlock hadn't even realised it was getting dark. He got up, following the insistent cat out into the living room. It was well past the time when Molly would usually be home, but there was no sign of her, her workbag wasn't on the hook where she usually left it and Toby clearly hadn't been fed, something she always did as soon as she got in. Even if she was going out somewhere she would have stopped in to dump her bag and feed the cat, Molly was always very particular in her habits.

Sherlock went to the cupboard and got the food out for Toby, whipping his phone out to text John at the same time.

_Were you seeing Molly after work today? – SH_

_No. Why? _

_Did she mention going out anywhere tonight? – SH_

_No, she specifically mentioned staying in tonight. Why, what's going on? _

_I think she's been taken. – SH_

**AN: Please don't hate me for doing this to Molly. Btw Hi to my new readers/followers, and thanks to those who have been reading a while for your continual support and comments :)**


	9. Questioning

"What do you mean 'she's been taken'?!" John demanded the second Sherlock picked up. John had phoned as soon as he read the message and Sherlock had picked up on the first ring, but it still wasn't fast enough for the panic flooding through him.

"A man broke into her apartment earlier, searching for me presumably since he didn't take anything. And now Molly hasn't returned from work. Never ignore a coincidence, John. Moriarty's men must have suspected and taken her in for questioning. And when I say 'taken her in for questioning' I don't mean the way the police would" Sherlock told him, cold and detached.

John pulled the phone away from his ear, letting out a few choice swearwords. "I thought they weren't watching Molly, you said Moriarty overlooked her!"

"They weren't watching her, they were watching you. Two of my former associates suddenly start spending a lot more time together, one of whom had gone unchecked all this time, of course they'd feel the need to check it out. My fault, I underestimated the people watching you. I thought surveillance would just be low level, grunt work, but Moriarty must have put someone with a little more intelligence in charge of the operation." Sherlock said, excitement and frustration warring in his voice.

"Well that's just great, so what are you going to do to make this right?" John replied with barely restrained anger. "I presume you have a plan, you've had nearly a minute, that's usually enough time isn't it?"

"Come to Molly's. Keep your cover in place, you're surprising Molly with a date, bring flowers or something. _Not_ your gun." Sherlock instructed, then hung up.

John swore a few more times then grabbed his coat, rushing out the door. He jogged down the street to the corner shop, which had no flowers so he bought a bottle of wine instead, an acceptable thing to surprise a girlfriend with. He hailed a cab, giving them Molly's address and tried not to get too worked up on the drive over. Sherlock was on the case, it would all be fine, he kept telling himself. The journey felt twice as long as normal. When the cab stopped he took a second to compose himself, calmly gave the driver the money and plastered a smile on his face, trying to appear natural as he walked up to the door.

He got nearly to her door before two men appeared out of the shadows and grabbed him, causing the bottle to fall to the floor and smash. John struggled and tried to yell but they kept a tight grip, covering his mouth to muffle his cries. They led him up the steps to her door as two other men stepped out of the shadows, one picking the lock, letting them into Molly's apartment. They pulled John in, pulling out a kitchen chair which the two holding him forced him into, while the other pulled out a cable tie to tie Johns hands behind him.

The last man just stood in the doorway, watching. John didn't need Sherlock to tell him this was clearly the man in charge. His hair was short, he had a scar running down one cheek, and about a weeks' worth of stubble. He wore a black shirt with the top 3 buttons undone and a leather jacket, and he stood with authority, tall and intimidating, hands behind his back.

"Dr Watson." He greeted him with a slight Russian accent "I am Dimitri Moratov, Moriarty left me in charge of your surveillance, although I'm sure you already worked that out as I'm sure Sherlock will have told you that you were being watched. Where is Sherlock?"

"What do you mean where's Sherlock? Sherlock's dead, where's my girlfriend?" John replied, hoping his face or voice wouldn't betray him. He looked anxiously around the flat.

"Don't worry, she is safe… for now." Dimitri told him "I do prefer not to have to harm women, but really it's up to you. I am not really convinced she is your girlfriend though, something about your relationship seems off. Seems strange to me that you never paid much attention at all to each other until just over a month ago. You went to jump off the roof of St. Bartholomew's and suddenly changed your mind and decided to start going out with Miss Molly."

"She pulled me back from the ledge, convinced me not to jump. I saw her in a new light, we started dating, and that's it." John rattled off the alibi Sherlock had given them.

"No, I don't think that is it. I think Sherlock is involved somehow. I don't think you really care for Miss Molly that much at all, but I'll happily let you prove me wrong." Dimitri added with a sly smile "Tell me where Sherlock is, if you do not want us to start questioning the girl."

"He's dead! He jumped off St. Barts, I saw it myself, I took his pulse. He. Was. DEAD!" John shouted, willing them to believe him and leave Molly alone.

Dimitri shook his head "One more time Dr Watson. Where is Sherlock?"

"Kensal green cemetery! Six feet under!" John shouted. He felt tears welling in his eyes out of fear for Molly and didn't try to restrain them, hoping they would add validity to his claims.

Dimiti sighed. "I am disappointed, Dr Watson. Come on boys, we have a woman to question." He waved a hand and his men started to file out of the house.

"No! No, you leave her alone! She doesn't know anything, you've got to believe me. We don't know anything!" John yelled after them, struggling again his chair.

Dimitri advanced towards him, then walked past into the kitchenette. He dug in the drawers pulling out a small kitchen knife, which he pressed into John's bound hand.

"I suggest, once you have cut yourself free, you go visit your friend at his supposed grave. Maybe he'll have some answers for you." He said, then also left, closing the door behind him.


	10. Battle Plans

John sat stunned, still tied to a chair in the middle of Molly's kitchen, too disheartened to even try to cut himself loose. All he could think about was poor Molly, wondering what pains she would suffer for his loyalty to Sherlock. He jumped when he felt someone behind him, taking the knife from his hand.

"It's okay John. Only me." Sherlock said, putting the knife away and getting out a pair of scissors instead to cut the ties with. "I'm sorry I had to let that happen, it would have been worse for you and Molly if they'd known I was here" John let out a ragged sigh, slumping forward and burying his face in his now free hands. Sherlock moved to the wall by the window, peeking out. "They're gone, just one in a car over the road, watching the house." He moved away from the window.

"You were expecting that weren't you?" John asked wearily.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't suspect something of the sort when I saw their car outside. I could see they weren't looking for a fight, no weapons on them, could only mean they were here with a message. I wouldn't have let you come if I thought you were in danger John." Sherlock added in a sincere voice. John wasn't in the mood to be forgiving though.

"What about **Molly?**!" John shouted, suddenly on his feet and inches from Sherlock's face "What about the danger she's in? They're going to hurt her, Sherlock!"

"I know. But there's nothing we can do to protect her right now John, believe me, even if I came forward they wouldn't release her, she'd just be someone they could hurt me by killing. As long as they can't find me she stands a chance" Sherlock told him, a hint of frustration in his calculating tone, betraying his strong feelings over the matter. It dissolved John's anger somewhat, but the reality, that pain was the best they could hope for, for Molly, was harrowing. John turned away, fighting tears.

"What do we do Sherlock?" John gulped.

"Tonight you go home, get some rest and then tomorrow you're going to visit my grave. If Dimitri's last comment is anything to go by they'll be leaving something there for you. It won't be pleasant, but it could be the lead we need to find them." Sherlock instructed. John nodded regaining control of his emotions, schooling his features as the soldier in him was trained too. Sherlock gave him a nod, proud of his control, then walked away, coming back with two small items in his hand. He held one up for John to see. "Micro-surveillance camera, connects to the Wi-Fi. The same one I found in our flat before the fall, a gift from the assassins Moriarty sent after me to get the supposed 'key code' he left in our apartment. It's been reset, so they can't see us now. It should give me an idea of what you're seeing though, which is very important because you usually miss things. Put it here" Sherlock undid the top button of John's coat, pushing the camera though the buttonhole to conceal it and give it an unobscured view.

"Clever." John agreed, choosing to let the previous comment pass, as well as the fact he hadn't bothered asking permission before part-undressing John. It was Sherlock after all.

Sherlock held up the second item. "Bluetooth headset, so I can direct you. **Don't** put it in your ear and **Don't** talk back. Both will make it too obvious." He clipped it to John's collar, under where the coat concealed it. "That should be well hidden enough and still audible on full volume."

"Great, just what I needed, radio Sherlock" John added dryly.

Sherlock smiled at his comment, then went back into business mode. "One last thing. You won't be able to come back here until Molly is back, it'll be too suspicious."

"So I'm on my own from now on?" John asked, keeping his face straight despite his trepidation. He hadn't done so well without Sherlock before.

Sherlock tapped his collar where the headset was in place. "I'll be in touch"


	11. Visiting an Old Friend

It was a bright and cold autumn morning. The orange and brown leaves crunched under John's feet as he made his way to Sherlock's grave. John was vigilant to everything around him, knowing he was probably being watched. There was no-one else at the cemetery this morning however, so it was likely his only surveillance was the car that pulled up shortly after him, which no-one got out of. That and Sherlock.

_"Walk more carefully, the camera is bouncing around all over the place. I can't see a thing"_ he heard Sherlock complaining through the Bluetooth headset in his collar.

John just sighed, continuing as he was to Sherlock's grave. It was odd, standing once again in front of the grave, this time knowing it was empty. His watchers couldn't know this however, he had to act like he was really visiting the grave of a friend.

"Well Sherlock, I'm sorry it's been a while. I was planning on visiting I just… to start with it was too painful, then I was just too busy. Excuses, I know" He said to the gravestone, inwardly cringing at the fact that Sherlock could really hear this. "I wouldn't even be visiting today if it wasn't for some unpleasant business"

_"Yes and can we get on with the unpleasant business now?"_ Sherlock huffed impatiently in his ear "_What are those flowers doing there?"_

"I see Mrs. Hudson bought you flowers again. I remember her saying she bought some once a month, I didn't realise she was still coming." John said to the grave, to cover his answer to Sherlock.

_"No, Mrs Hudson favours carnations, she wouldn't have bought roses. That's your message right there. Take a closer look. Careful! Don't touch them, you don't know what they might have done to them. It's all too easy to poison a rose thorn."_

John pulled his hand back from where he had been about to pick up the rose. Then he noticed something attached to one of the stems. Very carefully he pulled it free.

_"A memory card. Hurry back John, we need to see what's on that thing"_

When John got back to his apartment he was surprised to see Sherlock sitting on the sofa, typing away on his laptop.

"Sherlock! How did you get here? I thought the houses were being watched? And what about Harry? She'll have questions when she sees you here." John asked

"Relax John, I slipped out of Molly's when our guards swapped shifts, then in here when they followed you away to the cemetery. And don't worry about Harry, she won't be back for a couple of days. Apparently she won an all-expenses paid spa getaway out at Uxbridge. She left a note on the fridge." Sherlock explained, nodding to it without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Oh no… oh no, no." John groaned, running over the fridge and ripping the note off to read it.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked, only briefly looking up.

"Well it's a bit convenient isn't it? You told me not to ignore coincidences Sherlock. This is them, it's got to be. It's a trap. Molly wasn't working so now they've taken someone else I care about" John said, ending with a groan.

Sherlock smiled. "So close John, yet so far. It was me" He added answering Johns confused look "I knew you'd be worried about her getting caught up in this, so I made the arrangements to get her safely out of the way a few days. Plus it saves the hassle of having to ask if I can crash here until we get Molly back." He added, going back to his typing as John dropped onto the sofa in relief.

"Alright, but if you're staying no… shooting walls, or putting body parts in the fridge. I do not want to have to explain that to my sister." John ordered

"Did you see any signs of that kind of behaviour at Molly's? I do know how to behave when I am a guest in someone's house, John." Was Sherlock's curt reply.

"Buckingham palace?" John reminded him

Sherlock grinned "I make exceptions where my brother is involved."

He finished what he was working on and minimised the window, before holding is hand out and clicking. John sat up and dug the memory card out of his pocket, handing it to Sherlock, who immediately inserted it into the computer. There was one file on it, a video.

"Brace yourself John." Sherlock warned, opening the file.


	12. The Video

Molly came on screen, tied to a chair in the middle of a dingy room, with a black cloth bag over her head and nothing but a dirty window behind her. Her head twitched nervously towards any sound. A man walked towards her from behind the camera. Even from behind John recognized him as Dimitri. He stopped before her, but to the side enough for her to be clearly seen by the camera, and removed the hood. Molly looked up at him with a fearful gasp, the high definition of the footage clearly showing the tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Miss Hooper" Dimitri began "So sorry for the wait. We were hoping your 'boyfriend' could save us the trouble of questioning you, but he was… unwilling. And so it falls on your shoulders. Tell us, where is Sherlock Holmes?"

"I… I don't know" Molly stuttered. Without hesitation or mercy Dimitri backhanded her across the face. Molly looked back up at him, her eyes huge with fear.

"Do not lie to me! I will ask you again. Where is Sherlock?"

"I don't know" Molly repeated, her voice seriously shaking "I just do the autopsies, I don't know where they are buried."

Again Dimitri hit her. "Don't be clever Miss Hooper. Mr Holmes is not dead, we both know this. If you were responsible for his pathology report then you are responsible for helping him fake his death. Tell us where he is, and we might be merciful"

Molly sobbed, her head bowed unable to look at him any longer. "He.. he jumped.. off… a building. There… were… witnesses. You can't fake… that. Please…. Is it not enough…to see the man I… I loved … dead…"

Dimitri let out a cry of frustration, smacking her so hard the chair toppled over onto its side. Molly howled and cried even louder, clearly no longer of any good for questioning as her replies would be incoherent through her crying. Dimitri walked back towards the camera with a killing look on his face and the video came to an end.

The two men stared at the now blank screen, processing what they had just seen.

"Leave the room John"" Sherlock suddenly spoke.

"What? Why?" John asked.

"Because after seeing that I need a whiskey, and given your recent recovery from a drinking problem-"

"Oh, I don't want a drink right now Sherlock" John assured, getting on his feet to pace "I want my gun. I want to find and kill that son-of-a…" John stopped, taking a deep breath to calm himself "You won't find any alcohol in here anyway, both me and Harry are clean now, remember?"

"Really?" Sherlock smirked, getting up and going to the kitchen drawers. He pulled the bottom one right out, reaching back into the gap and pulling out a half-finished bottle of Jack Daniels. John rolled his eyes. Of course Harry would have a secret stash. And of course Sherlock would know where it was the second he walked in the room. Sherlock poured himself a drink before going back to his laptop and typing furiously, while John collapsed into the chair opposite him, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"We need to get her out of there Sherlock. She won't be able to take much more interrogation, she'll break" John said with a sigh.

"No she won't, she'll be fine. She's a strong and resilient woman, it'll take a lot to break her." Sherlock remarked over the top of his laptop.

"I'm sorry, are we talking about the same woman here? The Molly I know gets nervous enough when **you** walk in the room, and you mean her no harm." John asked

"She does get nervous when I walk into the room, but not for any of the genuine reasons she should have to be nervous of me." Sherlock explained "Not my gift for noticing which unsettles most people, not the things she's seen me do to cadavers in the name of investigation. No, that doesn't bother Molly in the slightest. She gets nervous around me because of a _crush_. Nervous I won't like the lipstick she's wearing, nervous she might say something stupid, nervous I won't notice her. And all those silly reasons. Take those away and she's a very different woman."

"Okay, but still, the way she was crying-" John interjected

"Was greatly exaggerated. Smart of her, a good way to get out of being interrogated." Sherlock's eyes gleamed with pride, a smug smile on his face. "Don't waste time worrying about her, John. She can handle things until we get there."

"You're right" John said, exhaling in relief "We need to focus on finding her."

"Already have. She's here" Sherlock said, spinning the laptop round for John to see. He was staring at what looked like an abandoned ground level unit in central London.

"You have no evidence except the video, which is all filmed in one dingy room. How can you have got an exact location from that?" John asked

"The type of building was obvious from the video, the fact it was abandoned by the dirty windows." Sherlock began "This group would be in charge of monitoring you, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, so the location would have to be central to all three, which narrows down the search considerably. Still quite a few potential locations with that criteria, but this one had something the others didn't."

"Go on"

"A McDonald's across the street. You can just about make out the golden arches though the dirty window."

"Why didn't I see that?" John replied sarcastically "Alright then, what are we waiting for, let's go get her!"

"No, not we, you. I've told you already if they see me alive they'll kill her. Much as I hate missing out on the action, I can't go." Sherlock said, shaking his head, eyebrows creased in genuine disappointment.

"Okay, where is it, I'll go on my own" John said, checking the destination again on the laptop.

Again Sherlock shook his head "Think about it John, Dimitri had 3 others with him when he came for you at Molly's, they won't have left their base of operations unguarded, nor Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, so that's an operation of at least 7. Who knows how many will be there guarding Molly now. You're a soldier, not a superhero, you can't go running in there alone. Plus, there's no way you could have found them this fast without me, and they'll know that. You go in now and you're basically telling them I'm alive and in contact with you."

"Well what do you suggest then, Sherlock?" John snapped, getting irritated.

"You do what any _normal_ person would do if their girlfriend was kidnapped. You go to the police, straight to Lestrade. Tell him everything that happened since they grabbed you last night, leaving my parts out of course, safer if he doesn't know about me. And show them see the video." Sherlock instructed, ejecting the memory card from his computer and handing it to John "You'll have to let them search for the building themselves, but if you tell them what I told you about it being central to the 3 locations, without telling him he's being watched, and about the McDonalds it shouldn't take them too long. Then they'll send a team in," Sherlock put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes as if what he was about to tell him was the most important thing in the world "Make sure you are part of that team."

_AN:_

_Hello again friends and followers. First off, sorry for what just happened to Molly, hope you don't hate me too much for it, but it was a necessary part of the story. I tried to make it as easy on her as possible._

_I've finally finished typing this all out, I will keep giving you a chapter a day till it's finished. I have been playing with the idea of doing a compliment story to this, following Molly and Sherlock for the first 9 months, the bit which was Johns diary. Or maybe the whole thing with Molly's POV. What do you think?_


	13. In Action

_AN: Sorry for updating later than normal, have been out all day. I think some of you may have misunderstood what I meant on my last note, I am going to finish this story, don't worry._

"You can't leave me behind on this, Lestrade" John insisted. They were in Lestrade's office at Scotland Yard. It had been a tense hour for John, waiting for them to find out what he already knew. Finally they had the location though, and arrangements were being made to go in. John just had to convince them to take him with them.

"Oh come on John, letting you guys on crime scenes back in the day was bad enough, yet alone a raid. You're a civilian, you just don't have the clearance!" Lestrade told him

"I'm not just any civilian, I was a soldier, remember? I've been trained for this kind of thing." John reminded him, flashing his old military ID.

"You were an army doctor. And that ID will mean nothing to our legal department, you were discharged" Lestrade reasoned.

"Because I was wounded, but I've made a full recovery. You want a medical report that I'm fit for duty? I'll write one up right now. And don't say army doctor like that makes me less fit for this kind of operation, if anything its all the more reason for me to go. Molly will need medical attention after what we saw in that video alone, and it could be ten times worse by now!" John said, trying to ignore his own words for the sake of his sanity.

"John,-" Lestrade tried again, but John cut him off.

"No! I don't want to hear any more excuses. Either you kit me up and brief me with the rest of the team, or you lock me up in a holding cell until it's over, because that's the only thing that will stop me going to her!"

Lestrade sighed, staring at John and chewing his lip in thought. "Alright, let me make some calls, see what I can do"

And so another hour later John found himself in the back of a police van with the rest of the response team, in a borrowed uniform and armed with a Taser and a medical field kit. The adrenalin coursed through his veins, just as it had on the battlefield and on his adventures with Sherlock, making him feel truly alive.

The van stopped and they rushed out, surrounding the door to the building, John staying back as instructed. They gave a cursory knock then forced their way in when they received no response. As soon as they were all in the gunfire started, 3 assailants around the room. John ducked behind cover, surveying as much of the room he could from his position, looking for Molly. This wasn't the room she was being held in though, he didn't recognise it. He noted 2 doors leading off of this room and was just surmising which one was most likely the right one when he heard a pained grunt from one of the police men. He saw the young man dropping behind cover, gripping his wounded gun arm and made a dash over to him. Bits of plaster exploded from the wall behind him as their adversaries turned their gunfire on him, but he made it behind the cover before one got lucky.

"Let me look" he asked the young man, having to shout over the noise. The man took his hand away, revealing a bloodied hole in the shoulder of his uniform, right on the edge. John tore the material away to better see the injury. "What's your name?"

"Jamie" The man replied

"Well, you're in luck, Jamie. It just grazed you, it's a bit messy, but at least we don't need to worry about digging a bullet out." John reassured him. He dug in his medi kit, pulling out a small bottle of sterilising fluid, and some bandages. "This will sting" He warned before pouring on half the fluid and cleaning up the wound before bandaging it. "That should do it for now, but you should get it checked at the hospital later though, they might want to put a stitch or two in."

"Thanks" Jamie smiled at him.

The gunfire had stopped, the room secured. The men with the guns had been apprehended and were currently being led out to the van by a few of the policemen, while the others surrounded one of the doors, ready to go into the next room. John nodded to Jamie, who went out to help guard those who had been apprehended, while John moved to the back of the group by the door. When the others came back the signal was given to go.

They swung the door open, and the men rushed forward, then abruptly stopped. John hadn't got through the door, but could just about see a reflection on the doors frosted glass panel of what had made the men stop. The room contained only two people, Dimitri and Molly. Dimitri pulled Molly tight against him as a human shield, a gun pointed at her head.

"Don't come any closer, or I will shoot!" He shouted.

The policemen tried to negotiate with him, but John knew that wouldn't get them anywhere. He could see Dimitri backing towards an emergency exit in the corner, and immediately knew his strategy. But how to stop it? He knew Dimitri couldn't see him, so he backed away into the main room, preparing to sneak around the back way and get behind him. His Taser would be no good in this situation, so he looked around the room, for something, _anything_ he could use.

_What would Sherlock do? _John asked himself. Then he saw it, on the table. It was crazy, but it could just work. John grabbed what he needed and rushed out the door.


	14. Safe and Sound

John ran round the back of the building, reaching the back door with a few seconds to spare. He pressed against the wall beside the door, steeling himself up for what was possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever do, hoping it would work. The door swung open and John made his move, stepping up behind Dimitri and pressing the cool metal to the back of his head.

"Game over Dimitri. Now _let the girl go_." He instructed coolly.

"Ah, Doctor Watson, I wondered when you'd show" Dimitri said pleasantly, not moving to attack or surrender.

***Click*** "I'm not playing here Dimitri, let her go or I will shoot" John commanded.

Everything was still for a tense few seconds, then Dimitri threw Molly away from him, ducking his head away from John's weapon and spinning to attack. John was faster though, and smacked him round the head with the heavy metal stapler he had been holding all along, effectively knocking him out.

Suddenly the room was a flurry of activity: men rushing forward to apprehend Dimitri and secure the room and take care of Molly. John started to go to her, but was stopped by the captain approaching him.

"Good work Dr Watson, even if it was foolish and reckless." He said, his voice torn between approval and disapproval.

"Yeah, thanks, won't happen again" John nodded, his eyes flitting away to Molly. The Captain saw his concern and nodded his assent for John to go. John handed him the stapler and walked away. He made his way over to Molly, nodding to the men with her, who gave them some space. As soon as she saw him, Molly dived into his arms.

"I knew you'd come" She said into his chest.

John smiled slightly, hugging her gently in return. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here any sooner. Are you okay? They didn't hurt you too badly, did they?" He asked, pulling her back slightly to examine her.

"I'm fine, just a few bruises" She assured him "I…It… it wasn't as bad as I made it sound on the video, I-"

"I know" John told her, his eyes communicating what he couldn't say. _He told me._

Molly nodded and smiled shyly. For a second there was an awkwardness between them. The part of John playing her boyfriend felt he should hold her again, but the soldier part of him was unsure if it was appropriate. Then he noticed the way she was still trembling slightly, and his decision was made. He pulled her gently back against his chest and she relaxed into him, closing her eyes.

"Dr Watson. We're all done here, we need to head back to the station." A young officer came up and told him, causing them to break apart again.

"Okay. Well, um… would it be alright if I take Molly home first, get her settled? I'll go back to the station later to return the uniform and give my report." John asked.

"Let me check" The officer asked, running off again. His request was granted, and after handing in his Taser and medical kit they were able to leave.

When they opened the door to Molly's flat, John wasn't at all surprised to find Sherlock waiting for them.

"Molly. I'm so sorry I couldn't come." He said, the sincerity clear in his voice.

"I understand" Molly immediately reassured him with a nod, looking at him longingly. To John's surprise Sherlock held his arms out to her, and she rushed into them, clinging to him as she had to John less than an hour ago. She let herself go completely, allowing the ordeal to catch up with her and sobbing into his chest. Sherlock didn't even tell her off for being so emotional after it was over, just bought a hand up to her hair, gently stroking. John knew Molly found having her hair stroked or brushed relaxing, she had told him once on one of their pretend dates. But he was surprised Sherlock would know, or that he'd saved the information. It seemed like the kind of trivial thing he would normally delete.

"Right, well I supposed I'd better head back to the station. Need to give my report to Lestrade." John said awkwardly, looking away.

"Yes" Sherlock agreed, letting his hand fall from Molly's hair and settle on her back instead "But hurry back, I need to hear your report myself while it's still fresh in your mind"

"Okay" John said, turning and letting himself out. He paused momentarily outside the door, considering what he had seen between Sherlock and Molly. Something had definitely changed in their relationship since the fall. John wasn't sure what he felt about that. Was it awkwardness to be pretending to date Molly if there was actually something between her and Sherlock? Or maybe it was jealousy, maybe he had started to get attached to the idea of Molly as his girlfriend and was jealous seeing her in another man's arms? Or maybe it wasn't Molly at all, maybe he was jealous Sherlock had a new best friend when that was his job. No, that was silly. John shook away his thoughts of Sherlock and Molly and started heading for Scotland Yard, thinking about what he would say in his report.

_AN: 5 points and a shout-out to anyone who can tell me what film features the stapler as pretend gun trick. Clue: It's a film about another of the worlds greatest detectives ;) Now there's a cross-over i would love to see!_


	15. No Fooling Some People

"Is that all?" Lestrade asked at the end of John's report to him of all that had happened on the raid that day.

"Yes, that's it" John nodded

"Okay then, thanks for that. I'll let you get back to Molly. Tell her we'll be over some time tomorrow to collect a statement from her." Lestrade said

"Thanks" John said, turning for the door. He heard the click of a button behind him, before Lestrade called out.

"Wait a minute John. I've turned the surveillance off, it's just you and me now. There's something else I need to ask you."

John turned back slowly, wary. "And what's that?"

"You said those men thought Sherlock was still alive, and wanted you to tell them where he was, right?" Lestrade asked.

"Right" John said slowly, guessing where this is going

"So were they right? _Is _Sherlock alive? Don't worry I won't tell anyone. He obviously has his reasons for laying low. It would just be nice to get some answers for once. Haven't had many since he died. Supposedly." Lestrade asked, a gleam of hope in his eye.

John considered for a second. Just because they had bust up that surviellance operation today, did that make them safe? Was it a risk worth taking?

"I'm sorry Lestrade, I don't have any answers for you. Sherlock is dead" He told Lestrade, deadpan. Better safe than sorry. He turned to go, but again was stopped by Lestrade's voice.

"Oh come on, John! I'm not stupid! That information you gave us earlier to search by, the fact it would be central to the 3 locations, _the McDonald's._ You're a smart man, you learnt a lot from Sherlock, but not _that_ much. That was him, it had to be." Lestrade insisted.

John sighed, turned around and nodded. "Yes it was him. He's alive. I only found out a couple of months ago myself."

"I knew it!" Lestrade said with a triumphant smile "So what happened then? Why did he do it? Why is he hiding?"

"Moriarty had three assasins waiting to kill his three closest friends if he didn't jump. One for me, one for Mrs. Hudson, and one for you." John told him, slightly satisfied by the shock on Lestrade's face "Of course Moriarty had the means to call them off, so he faked his own death to make Sherlock think he had no choice but to jump. I still don't really understand how he survived, but he's been at Molly's ever since. He couldn't come out of hiding because he knew we were still being watched, that's why they were watching here, Baker street and my place. Not because that's where Sherlock would go, like I told you, but so they could kill us if he came back."

"Wow… that's…" Lestrade was nearly speechless, over one fact in particular "_I'm_ one of Sherlock's closest friends? I barely know the man"

"You give him cases to solve, you listen to what he tells you and you don't call him a 'freak' or anything like that. It's enough for him." John told him simply.

Lestrade exhaled heavily again. "So what now? Surely now we've taken care of the people watching us he can come out of hiding?"

"I don't know" John replied "I'll have to ask Sherlock about it. Either way it won't be long. All this time he's been working on gathering info about Moriarty's network, so you can probably expect to see him walk in here in a few days, or weeks, with enough information to help you put away half the criminals in London in one go."

"Wonderful, I look forward to it" Lestrade said, looking genuinely happier than John had seen him in a while "And I assume I'll be seeing you then"

"I imagine so" John laughed, infected by the DI's good mood. He gave one last nod and let himself out.

_AN: Sorry it's such a short one, just tying up loose ends. Only one chapter left now. But don't worry, because I've made a start on my companion fic for this - '_**Taming the Shrewd**_' which tells Molly and Sherlock's version of events in this fic, and possibly continuing after it, I haven't decided yet. Look out for it if you enjoyed this :)_


	16. The End of A Chapter

When John returned to Molly's he was surprised to find Sherlock in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stiring saucepans.

"You cook?" he asked, venturing over to see if what was being produced actually looked edible or not.

"It's a simple matter of following instructions, it doesn't require a genius" Sherlock replied tartly, waving to the recipe book he was using.

"True, I've just never seen you do it before" John said, taking out the things to lay the table "Where's Molly?"

"In the bath. They're supposed to be relaxing so I made her one and insisted she leave the cooking to me." Sherlock replied, as if such considerate behaviour was normal for him. John stopped what he was doing, his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

"What? Was that not right? Should I have let her cook?" Sherlock asked, having noticed John's confusion.

"No, it's not that." John said, shaking his head. His earlier thoughts on Sherlock and Molly came back to him.

"Then what is it?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Well, you've been acting very… differently, with Molly. I've been noticing it ever since you told me you were alive." John told him "Is there something you're not telling me? Like, are you two a couple now or something? Because if you are - "

"I've told you already, John, I consider myself married to my work. And Molly knows that too. Living with her has maybe opened my eyes a bit more to how to treat a woman, if you don't want to suffer their wrath, but that doesn't mean I'm suddenly interested in a relationship. And I'm just taking extra care of her today because she took such good care of me when I needed it. I never let my debts go unpaid" Sherlock explained.

"Oh. Right. Makes sense I suppose" John said, continuing with laying the table.

"So, what happened today, I need all the details." Sherlock asked

John explained all of what had happened on the raid that afternoon and soon they found themselves cracking up with laughter like old times.

"So you really threatened a dangerous criminal with a _stapler_?" Sherlock laughed

"Yeah, I know, crazy right?" John said, wiping a tear of laughter away.

"Completely, it's the kind of thing only happens in the movies, or so I thought!"

"Where do you think I got the idea?"

"I know where you got the idea" Sherlock said, with feigned seriousness.

John smirked "Should have known you were a batman fan"

"Not a fan exactly." Sherlock resonded "I may have watched a few films out of curiousity. He is _supposed _to be the worlds greatest detective"

"You don't sound like you were impressed" John noticed

"Please, if he was realy that good he would have figured out the true identity of Ra's Al Ghul a lot quicker. I knew straight away." Sherlock said, sounding guinely exasperated at the superhero.

"Of course you did." John chuckled. The two started to laugh again at the absurd turn their conversation had taken.

"So what did Lestrade say?" Sherlock asked, getting them back on track.

"I don't think he knew what to say. He figured it out by the way, that you'd given me the hints on how to find the place" John said, sobering up.

Sherlock was completely unphased "I figured he might."

"So what's happening now, Sherlock?" John asked "Now we've taken out the guys watching us are you coming back?"

"Moriarty could have a new team out here by tomorrow if he wanted." Sherlock said "But perhaps it's best to strike while the iron is hot. I have enough information for now, by the time the poilce have worked through what I've given them I'll have the rest. I'll go see Lestrade tomorrow."

John smiled. Finally this chapter had come to an end, and he couldn't wait to find out what the next would bring. He might even have to start blogging again.

* * *

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the end for this fic. Hope you enjoyed it, thanks very much for your support. I have now started uploading my compliment piece to this story 'Taming the Shrewd', which you can find through my page. It follows Sherlock and Molly through the same story as this one, and maybe even beyond for a little Sherlolly goodness. Check it out :)


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